My Life As Written By Others part 1

The picture of me and Doug from yesterday is just a freaking riot. I can't believe that was 1988, new wave was on its way out, Grunge hadn't quite been born, hair bands were starting to suffer a receding line, and we were a bunch of hippie kids living in the mountains reading Jacques Ellul, Dostoyevsky and David James Duncan.

By the way, I highly HIGHLY recommend David James Duncan to everyone I meet. Go. Read him instead of me. Now now now!

{{{By the way, even more, he was a guest lecturer and teacher at OE in 1996, and I urge you, if you don't run to the bookstore or Amazon NOW, at least go read that article I point to there. Sorry I wasn't there that year. I may have different political beliefs, stances, desires than he has... but wvoof! The man's pen writes my soul and I'm forever impressed. So go. Read, then, come back here, wouldya.}}}.

Mr. Duncan sees his life written by water. I see mine written by friends, and have been thinking a lot about them lately. From Frank, who I barely knew but wish I did know better, to Dave, who I knew before he wasn't Dave anymore... And, I have the new scanner and a pantload and a half of pictures.

So today's entry is about a few people who write my life... and some bad 80s hair. This is just a start, if you aren't mentioned here, you simply weren't in the pile of pictures right next to the computer.

This entry is for Christopher, Smitty, Scott, Shunta and my love, my life, my greatest writer... Douglas.

Smitty, Chris and Doug stalk Bob Dylan I think it is 1989, and Doug went home for the summer. He took a couple classes at the University of Pittsburgh and did some serious hanging out with some guys he was and still is friends with. The infamous Christopher J. Kelly, and Smitty, AKA Scott. They went to see Dylan, did the typical tailgating thing, got word that he was staying at the Vista Hotel in Dahn-Tahn, so the went there to see if they could see the Master himself. They didn't, but... the pictures still remain. They have been a big part of my life, and are more important to me than I think they realize sometimes. They were in our wedding party, and I wish they didn't live so far away. Here's a glimpse at a day in their lives with Doug "Back In The Day."
	CJK seems to be thinking "Oh the horrors, the horrors! I have to have my picture taken with the Smitster and he's attempting to take my beer! I'll smile and look polite but after the click, I pummel the bastard! Quick Doug! Snap the picture!" In spite of Chris' death thoughts, Smitty still lives today.
	Smitty aloofly stands with Doug leaning against the same Chevy Monza that he did bless once at a different Dylan show, memorialized on Doug's T-shirt. Doug looks like a foxy intellectual hippie kid, and I dig him!
	Smitty and Doug stalking Dylan outside of the Vista Hotel. Geoffrey wears his baseball hats like Doug does here, and looks a lot like him. Man, you can see how cute he is and why I dug him so much (still do, even though he doesn't wear that wicked cool 80s digital watch!)
	I love this picture. I hardly recognize these clowns. Check out the Vista Marquis in the back there. They really DID go to stalk Dylan! Chris' grin has always and forever cracked my shit right up, Doug's a cute assed little honey, and I wish I had been there instead of back here in Massachusetts. Sniff. Weep.
"You Can Steal Locks in Amellicka!!!!!!!" Scott in Chicago's dad worked for a company that did a lot of business in Japan. Shunta came to visit as Scott's guest for like a month and lived on Scott and Doug's dormroom floor, without the blessing, consent or knowledge of the college we were in. We had an unbelievable amount of fun with Shunta, and these pictures prove it. The quote at the top is from an hysterical anecdote which reeks of western misunderstanding of eastern dialect. We went out drinking one night, and Shunta needed to get a smoke on, so we all went out for a walk down to the swimming pond. It was butt-cold freezing out, and Shunta was laughing his ass off hysterically. He said something to Scott, like, "Scott, you caster wok innamellicka!" Scott answered, "You can cancer wock in America? I don't get it." Shunta repeated it, and Scott said "You can steal locks in Amellica? Shunta, you make no sense." We were laughing at us, but the very drunk Shunta really wanted us to understand him. Getting frustrated, he finally sang it, and we figured out he really wanted us to know that: YOU CAN STILL ROCK IN AMERICA!!! God Bless the friendship making, gap-bridging and communication misunderstanding healing power of 80s hair metal bands! We still say to each other things like "You can steer rocks in Amellica..." just for fun, and to remember our friend Shunta.
	Shunta, Doug and I get ready to go for a walk. No smoking on campus, Shunta was an avid smoker, and we would go out in the woods and walk with him, and try and talk... towards the end of his stay, it was very easy. At first, we had NO clue what the hell this guy was talkin' about...
	What is Doug pointing at? Why is Shunta the only one mugging for the camera? Wake up Scottie! This picture cracks me up. I think we took it right after the "Steal lock in amellicka" discussion that almost set back anglo-asian relations 200 years.
	Oh my God is this picture funny or what. Check out Agrey in front. He is Kenyan, and was as avid a drinker as a guy could be. He was obviously tanked... and I love how he looks like he belongs in another picture entirely, not this white kids in a bar shot. Shunta is there in back, next to him is Derek, who was from Indonesia, Scott with his fist up in some sort of white-boy cool fist-making pose. And we have NO fucking idea who that guy in the denim jacket is/was/could be. And I'm all curly and cute. I don't look like I belong there any more than Agrey.
Agrey lived across the hall from Doug and Scott, and Derek lived next door from Agrey. It was sometimes hard, but the Kenyan, the Indonesian (who spoke the best, clearest english of them all) and Shunta would try and discuss religion, God, America and all sorts of other international ex-patriate topics in Doug and Scott's room. What a fun time. They got along like brothers, and I really had a blast hanging with them. I totally wonder where Agrey and Derek are today. Not to mention our Shunta. We saw him one other time after we moved to Atlanta, his cousin T.C. was living in Atlanta, and took us out one night because we had NO money. I have a really cool picture someplace of Shunta with our stupid cat Linus. I can't put my finger on it right now though. Scott in Chicago rounds out or guy side of the wedding party, and is another big writer of my life. When I first got email, so did he. We probably spent more working hours writing each other and making up these ridiculous stories and cracking ourselves up all day every day. We got paid while doing that. When he left his job, I was crushed... I was afraid we'd never regain that level of email writing frivolity, but oh, I was wrong. It followed us through a couple different addresses, and helped pass many a dull day at a desk. He's getting his doctorate now. He's a supergenius. I love him dearly. He has a laugh that is high and infectious, laughs through his teeth and grins and squints like a madman, and makes you laugh with him. I miss laughing with him daily. But I wish him all the luck ever while he does that dissertation.
Candids from our wedding. I have thousands of wedding pictures. Some day, perhaps I'll do a wedding album, but I specifically wanted to post these two pictures.
	This picture is actually world-renowned. Or is it world renown? I forget. Shoot me for misuse of the language. That's CJK in my wedding veil after the wedding. I love this picture. It is my favorite picture of him of all time. I plan on making copies for his children, when he has them, so they know their dad.
	You will notice a little somethin' somethin' on the noses of both Scotts here. I was drunk. I admit it. I went around to the three men in our wedding party, and put dollops of butter cream cake frosting on each of their noses. I told them that they had to wear them the rest of the day or else. And it was because I loved them that they were given dollops of frosting.
I distinctly recall dolloping Christopher's nose in the middle of the hall near the cake, I think I was talking to him and Bonnie, or perhaps it was my sister. He told me "I love this frosting, and I am going to wear it for the rest of the day and I will KILL anyone who wipes it off my nose, I swear. Kill them." We laughed and talked another minute or so, then my mother in law came out of nowhere with a napkin, wiped Chris' nose, and said "You've got frosting on your nose and it looks silly," and she spirited away. Chris had been in mid sentence when she did that. He stood there, stunned, not knowing exactly what to do. I think I peed my pants, well, my dress. It was priceless. I believe he wanted to slay her. But, note the woman still lives. I like these little closeups because Scott (from Chicago) has his gay 80s plastic glasses on. And I totally dig his Zeke beard. Luckily Mrs. Scott managed to get him to trim the thing down and look more stylie, while still maintaining that Oregon Extention spirit by keeping it! Smitty here has this "are you happy, woman?! you make me look like a TOOL" facial expression. I love the smirk. He's killah funny. Well that's it for now. I've got the scanner and tomorrow, I think I'll find more funny crap to scan. Mwah ha haaaaaa. There are grandparents, parents, college roommates, kids... more friends. Dang. There are so many to think and write about. That's why I keep the journal.